Old-school honorees
Hall of Fame’s class of 2017 reminds fans of baseball’s human element
In an era in which analytics are increasingly supplanting, rather than supplementing, gut instincts, baseball celebrated the old school game Sunday at the annual Hall of Fame induction ceremony.
Jeff Bagwell reminded the crowd of the importance of a clubhouse culture, hanging out with your teammates, clubhouse attendants and trainers late into the night, talking life as much as baseball.
Tim Raines reminisced about his early years with the Montreal Expos, where teammate Andre Dawson not only helped him overcome his cocaine addiction but was so instrumental in his life that he named his second son after him.
Ivan Rodriguez spoke about growing up in poverty in Puerto Rico and, although he’s in the Hall of Fame, vows never to forget his roots. He talked about the impact great Puerto Rican catchers such as Benito Santiago and Sandy Alomar Jr. made on him.
John Schuerholz, architect of two World Series champions (one in each league) and 14 consecutive division titles with the Atlanta Braves, discussed the im-
portance of scouting and development, with Hall of Fame manager Bobby Cox becoming his most treasured resource, not a puppet writing out a lineup card handed down by the front office.
Former commissioner Bud Selig talked about the days in which the sport was divided between small and big markets and a time when the players union and owners were feuding. He changed the game using old-fashioned people skills, helping everyone get along; he thanked former union chief Michael Weiner for helping him along the way.
The quintet spent nearly four hours Sunday subtly reminding everyone that numbers and statistics are fine but it’s still a game played and run by men and women, emphasizing no one should ever forget the value of the human element.
“What I was trying to convey,” Bagwell said in his impassioned speech, “was that a lot of things are done in baseball that you see a bottom line. You see stats. It’s all about stats.
“But there’s so much more about baseball than goes in, whether it’s talking to the media, the clubhouse guys, umpires. … There’s so many different things that go around a stat line that people don’t see.”
Bagwell thanked everyone from longtime teammates Craig Biggio and Moises Alou to the late Ken Caminiti and Darryl Kile, to his former managers, coaches, trainers, to Milwaukee Brewers clubhouse attendant Phil Rozewicz.
“Baseball is about relationships,” Bagwell said. “Those are the things that are passionate to me, just because I think those people are so important in all of our lives as players.”
Sure, maybe the speeches were too long. Then again, maybe it was OK to hear grown men ramble on, talking about their paths to the Hall of Fame and not trying to fit their speeches to accommodate any TV time slots.
The players showed their emotions throughout the day, with Rodriguez tearing up when he looked at his parents in the crowd and thanking them in Spanish. Raines choked up when he discussed those who meant the most to him throughout his career, everyone from Dawson to Joe Morgan to Frank Thomas.
And, yes, the day was sprinkled with humor. Rodriguez talked about the time his 2-year-old son wet his pants when Ken Griffey Jr. picked him up for the first time and how he blamed Nolan Ryan missing his eighth no-hitter on his English skills.
“Hall of Famer Dave Winfield singled to lead off the eighth inning,” Rodriguez recalled. “After the game, the reporter asked me, ‘What was the pitch he threw?’ I said to the reporter, ‘Nolan shook me off.’ Sorry, Nolan.
“The kid learned English quickly.”
Bagwell reminded everyone of the infamous one-sided trade that sent him to the Houston Astros as a Class AA prospect for veteran reliever Larry Andersen in 1990. Bagwell spent his entire 15-year career in Houston. Anderson spent 15 games with the Boston Red Sox before departing as a free agent.
“I asked who I got traded for,” Bagwell said, “and they said, ‘Larry Andersen.’ And I said, ‘Who is Larry Andersen?’ ‘He’s a relief pitcher for the Astros, a really good one.’ So I want to thank Larry for being such a great reliever. The Red Sox wanted you.
“Larry used to get on me when I went to Philadelphia, and he’d say, ‘Hey, you have to step it up. People are not actually talking about me anymore.’ I said, ‘ OK, I’m doing the best I can.’
“So I’m here, Larry. Is this big enough for you?”
Raines, overwhelmed by the legions of fans who came from Montreal to honor him, tried to open his speech by thanking them in French. He spoke a few words, stopped and apologized. He couldn’t pull it off.
“I tried for 25 years to speak your language,” Raines said, “and I still don’t have it. I screwed that one up. “Again.” It made no difference. The fans that made the five-hour drive showered Raines with adoration, and their love for Montreal, but they lightly booed Selig when he was introduced, angry over the loss of their franchise. Other Expos fans quietly departed when Selig spoke, returning only after his speech concluded.
Selig indeed was the commissioner when the Expos moved to Washington, D.C., after the 2004 season, but in Milwaukee, he is a hero and will forever be remembered as the man who brought baseball back to Milwaukee.
This was also the second consecutive year that players under steroid suspicion were inducted into the Hall of Fame, but Selig was the only one who addressed the subject during his speech.
“It became apparent that the players’ use of performance-enhancing substances was undermining the integrity of the game,” Selig said. “I can tell you that having the buck stop at your desk is not necessarily a good feeling but it is a responsibility that comes with positions of leadership.
“We desperately needed a drug testing program, and we had to work together to get it done. While the process was more difficult and time consuming than I would have liked, in the end, baseball and the players association developed a program that is the gold standard for sports and busi- ness alike.”
In the meantime, players such as Rodriguez and Bagwell — with not even solid circumstantial evidence but mere suspicions clouding their name — will continue entering the Hall’s doors.
The issue will continue to come up at the Hall of Fame induction ceremony until Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, the two greatest players during the steroid era, either are elected or their eligibility passes.
That’s an issue for another time, another year.
On this day, the newest Hall of Fame class wanted to simply celebrate the game they knew growing up.
Their ways might seem almost archaic to those running the game today, but, honestly, they’ll tell you, it was a thing of beauty.
Sunday provided a wonderful reminder.